The Arrangement: Chapter 2
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The Arrangement
A Cal Kestis Fanfiction
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Summary:
A/B/O.
18+ for Smut.
There is much to address after returning home.
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Chapter 2: The Cost
The disembodied screaming bounces off the sweating concrete walls. I want to cover my ears to stop the pain, but I can’t seem to raise my hands. Blood pools around the base of the hard folding chair I’m strapped to. Blurred vision makes it impossible for me to determine how much of it is mine.
I try again to draw my hand to my face to wipe the sweat from my furrowed brow. Shooting pain courses through my arm and I stop my movement. A reminder that I have already made one attempt to escape my bonds by toppling the chair, leaving me with a smashed wrist.
The greasy, faceless man enters my cell, and I brace for more pain. Maybe this will finally kill me.
The intrusive sound of my phone alarm jolts me awake. I slap it and kick the tangled sheets from my body, needing to cool down. The nightmares always seem to intensify after completing a job. Maybe I can rig an IV drip with alcohol while I sleep.
I roll off my damp pillow, steadying my breathing as sunlight pours through the open window of my modest bedroom. I never close my curtains. A perk of living far from others. It’s just me, the ocean, sunshine, and stars.
Tony lies in bed beside me, as he does every morning; we have a standing appointment before bed each night. I pick him up, taking him into the unattached bathroom.
It’s small, the floor plan taken up by an aged standing tub, and suspiciously cluttered. Apparently, in my drunken state, I had dumped my toiletries across the small vanity while trying to find my toothbrush. At least I brushed my teeth before bed, I guess.
Tony receives a generous wipe down before I plug him into the charger I keep on the counter. It takes a minute to return the discarded toiletries to their rightful homes before getting ready for the day.
I turn the knob on the shower attachment, but no water flows from the pipes. Right, the water is off. I glance at Tony, who isn’t charging. Another utility to have restarted today.
This happens after every job. I shut everything off to save money, never knowing when I’ll be back. Then, upon return, I foil my own plans to enjoy a proper shower and once again have to march into town feeling cheated.
I grab an emergency jug of water from the room temperature fridge and an empty pot before standing in my tub to clean myself. It’s not glamorous, but it works. I’ve had worse showers when serving. At least here I’m home, alone, and there are no bugs at my feet.
The remaining water is used to scrub the bathroom clean before force flushing the toilet. I finish getting ready and glance at my phone battery. It’ll make it until I can get my electricity turned back on.
It takes a moment of scrolling through the messaging app to locate my desired recipient. In a sea of unsaved numbers, I finally find the only one with a name attached.
What do I owe this time?
The message sends to “Mini”. An ironic nickname, considering he’s a head taller than me. But I’ve never called him anything else. At least he has a full first name.
My stomach growls, but I avoid going into the kitchen. There’s no food in there, at least nothing immediately edible. I don’t take chances with pests while I’m away.
Instead, I sit at the breakfast bar - where my laptop is, my back to my cozy living room. The brick hearth invites me to light a fire on this chilly morning, but I resist its call. I won’t be lingering here today, but perhaps I’ll enjoy some warmth tonight before bed.
There’s a layer of dust that I wipe from the closed lid of my ancient laptop. It’s seen better days, but it won’t die, or maybe I just won’t let it. It had a charge when I last used it, but I can’t be sure that’s held all these months. I send up a prayer as I push the power button and it whirs to life. As I adjust the screen, the top cover falls off. I don’t move to fix it. I’ve modified this poor thing too much for the case to close anymore.
The machine fights to load my black homepage with green text. I’ve removed any semblance of a graphic interface. A few keystrokes pull up my advertisement for “contract life elimination”. I change a few things and post it again. Hoping the right person will find it before I’m out of money.
My phone chimes, Mini responded.
21,278 for everything over the summer.
Ouch, most of my recent pay. I glance at the Frankensteined laptop, hoping for a hit, but the screen stays unchanged.
I’ll wire it to you later today.
The three dots appear, disappearing a few times.
Thanks, sis, means a lot.
I send back the saluting emoji and power off my laptop. I have errands to run.
It took over an hour to turn my utilities back on because the idiot employee kept trying to convince me I don’t have to have them fully shut off every time I leave. I know their tricks; they claim charges are only for usage, not baseline fees. I refuse to fall for the obvious scam and argued a dripping faucet, or a forgotten charger, would incur fees, and since they require automatic withdrawal, I would just be losing money.
By my departure, neither I nor the customer service rep were too pleased with one another. Money isn’t something I can afford to fuck around with. Especially not when I’m sending nearly every remaining penny to my younger brother.
It’s worth it though. He receives the formal education I couldn’t pursue, and I feel like less of an obvious failure. I haven’t been the best sister. I disappeared for several months on a self-destructive bender when he was in his last year of high school. Leaving him behind to fend for himself and keep his grades up, all while trying to track down his older sister.
Only slightly better than my last year of high school, when our mom passed away. I relinquished my dreams upon realizing I was going to have to figure out how to support not only myself, but my 13-year-old brother. I tossed out my plans for college, since we couldn’t afford debt, and enlisted in the Marine Corps right out of school. They promised me I could achieve all my dreams through their benefits. But I lost more than I ever stood to gain.
Now, the least I can do for ruining his senior year is to pay his tuition. I did not, however, realize his plan included going to grad school, which is costing a pretty penny. But I’m true to my word - to my detriment.
The meager few grocery bags in my backseat fall over as I round the last curve too fast. I shoot my hand back, trying to contain the mess, but it’s too late. The round fruit rolls all over the floor and under the stained cloth seats.
My quaint home comes into view, a little stone hut surrounded by rolling hills. The ocean in the distance, providing a constant white noise to drown out my thoughts. My tires crunch along the gravel road, pulling up behind an unexpected black Bentley. No one inside the vehicle, meaning Cal is already inside my home.
I suppose he and Tony have gotten acquainted.
Song for the chapter: Cynic by Noah Kahan
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